


The Doll Maker

by itsredandglowing



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, characters will be tagged as they appear, crime procedural au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-14 02:32:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18043787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsredandglowing/pseuds/itsredandglowing
Summary: Sasori has put together a quiet life for himself. Leaving his thriving medical practice on the west coast and moving back to his home city of Las Vegas hes looking for a fresh start and inspiration. and as always his art comes second to nothing.At 19 Deidara is on the run from a lie that just went up in flames. But hes not thinking far beyond the next greyhound station and the instinct to disappear into the crowd fighting against his urge set the world alight.Detective Hatake is just trying to get to the heart of it all while piecing together a murderous body of work left up and down the California coast. With every masterpiece unearthed he closes in on the artist responsible.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> My first fan fic and of course its GD Naruto. I've had this idea floating around for the past year or so and decided why not write it. this first chapter is pretty short and functions more as a prelude. i have a somewhat clear idea of the direction i want this to go but the feedback i get (if any) will be factored in!

 

_      Las Vegas, Nevada  _

  
  


   Sasori had always been like this. He couldn't recall a time he had not been like this. It was as much a part of him as breathing. As instinctual as an infants urge to grasp and never let go.

 

   His clever grandmother had tried to keep him sated for as long as she could. She knew something was very wrong with her grandson. He became another ugly family secret that she fed with pet store rodents and neighborhood strays, till he was a beast of love and shame.

 

   Sasori was like a bloom slowly unfurling each twisted petal to one day expose its gruesome core to the world. 

 

   Now, at the not so tender age of 35, he was coming home to his place of birth. In his youth Las Vegas had seemed like his own personal purgatory. Dirty, noisy, over crowded, and nothing around for miles but unforgiving desert. His own inelegant, rotting oasis. But it was different this time. He was returning triumphant after leaving a thriving practice he started in California to open another office, paired with a job lined up at  the U of N....Now he saw the city in a new light. Brimming with potential. A blank canvas and it was all at Sasori's disposal.

  
  


   Looking out the window of the taxi as he rode towards his new apartment he saw something that gave him pause at a traffic light.

   A young man jogged across the intersection in front of his taxi. Tall and athletic with dark hair plastered his forehead with sweat. Sasori caught a glimpse of pale eyes through  dark lashes. Restraining himself from turning in his seat, he follows only with his eyes till he was out of sight. 

 

   Sasori hardly noticed when they pulled up to the apartment building, still staring blankly at the windshield where the jogger had been. He shook himself out of his daze in time to pull out his wallet promptly enough not to arouse suspicion from the driver as he handed him a wad of bills, with a sizable tip included. 

 

   The driver eagerly went around the side  of the car to grab his bags from the trunk while Sasori stared up at what was to be his new home. The building was sleek and modern. Sasori found it uninspired to a depressing degree. Was he the only man in this world with an iota of taste? 

 

   As the driver handed off his luggage he fixed Sasori with a crooked smile. 

 

   “Welcome to Vegas, sir.” 

 

   Sasori nodded and turned retreated inside the drab building and up to his assumed equally dull apartment. 

 

   Keying in the lock and nudging the door open with his shoulder, Sasori found the sight that greeted him surprisingly pleasing. Large windows unbridled by curtains painted the steril, white walls with an almost luminescent glow. Towers of diligently packed cardboard boxes lay as ic in wait for him. All baring neatly printed labels in Sasori’s crisp shorthand. Reading ‘kitch- utensils’ ‘bd rm’ and ‘bks-fic’.

 

    Sasori moved through the spacious living room, already a floor plan was coming together in his mind. Plenty of room for something streamlined and functional with elegance and class.

 

   Feeling much better, Sasori paused in front of a rather unassuming, if not large box. Innocently bearing the words ‘art supls’. 

   His thoughts drifted back to the jogger from the ride over as he drummed his fingers absently on the box. Yes, this city was just filled with raw material for him. Waiting to be plucked and molded into something beautiful and everlasting. 

 

   His hands itched for his sketchbook. This was just the clean slate he needed.

 

   “It’s good to be  _ home”. _

  
  
  


_       Salt Lake City,  Utah _

   He'd well and truly _ fucked up _ this time around.

 

   At a greyhound station and running on less than an hour of sleep, Deidara waited for the world to go to shit. His transfer was late and sitting idle at the station had given him enough time to start freaking the  _ fuck out. _

 

   His hands were shaking and he bounced his backpack on his knees. Any second now a cop car with lights flashing and sirens blaring will come for him. Or worse, his old man will waltz out from behind the lamp post just to read him the riot act and drag him home. 

 

   Deidara would rather jump into traffic than go back and face the music in Denver. He was dead set on putting as much distance as possible between him and his life up until now.

 

_    But he couldn't do that until his fucking bus got here.  _

 

   Other people at the station gave him as wide as birth they could while still gathered under the awning for shade. He probably looked strung out right now but Deidara definitely didn't have the capacity to give a shit. 

 

   He started chewing on a fingernail and tasted ash. 

 

   His ticket was supposed to take him all the way to San Diego, but he wasn't going that far. He'd ditch his transfer in Las Vegas and leave his cell phone on the bus. He'd already put it back to factory settings and ditched the SD card in a creek somewhere back east. He figured he still had another day before someone started looking for him seriously. Deidara was gonna take full advantage of this head start. 

 

   Before he could taste blood, his bus rounded the corner. 

 

_      San Francisco, California  _

 

   Kakashi was going to meet an early death, this much he knew. Not by bravely taking a bullet in the line of duty, or in pursuit of a perp. He was going to suffocate in the stranglehold of bureaucracy. 

 

   A wad of paper struck him in the forehead. He blinked twice and stared at it dumbly on his desk before lifting his head up towards his assailant. 

 

    Across from him was Sargent Yamato, Kakashi's longtime partner and friend whose desk faced his. At the moment he was pretending to not have just assaulted Kakashi with the offending wad of paper, looking in the direction of his monitor. If his eyes weren't completely still and the smile a little better hidden than Kakashi might have been fooled into thinking nothing at all had just happened. 

 

   As it stood, a little petty retaliation was in order. Grabbing the wadded up paper he rose from his desk, ambled behind his subordinate, and shoved the ball of paper down the back of Yamato's shirt. 

He predictably squaked and twisted to get it out and Kakashi perched himself on the desk. 

 

  “Any reason you decided to toss that at me?”His tone was playful but with a tired drawl to it. 

 

Yamato made eye contact with him while he unfolded the crumpled paper. “You've been zoned out for the better part of an hour. Which is normal, but our latest report on The Mortician case is due in less than an hour.” 

 

   Kakashi groaned and let his head fall back. He could feel a headache taking root behind his eyes. He'd been trying not to dwell too much on the currently stagnant investigation. The entire thing was bazaar and finding evidence was proving to be almost impossible. He'd had this case dropped on him when a development company had broken ground on a site only to discover a cadaver cast in concrete.   

 

   The remains were well preserved, but impossible to place. After cracking open the concrete the county coroner had a hell of a time trying to make a positive ID. Dental records didn't match anyone in the database and neither did the prints from his unnervingly well preserved hands. Kabuto had gone over the body with a fine tooth comb and his report had been…..very in depth. 

   A man in his mid to late twenties, dark hair, blue eyes. Had been subject to a post mortem shave and haircut before being posed, stretched out on his back and looking up at the sky.

 

   With the cadaver between them, looking almost asleep on the examination table, Kabuto had told him that the victim had been been  _ embalmed  _ before he was sealed and buried. His intrigue not concealed by his clipped, professional cadence. 

 

   They couldn't make an accurate estimate on the time of death let alone cause. The lot he was found in had been vacant for nearly a decade and trying to canvas a crime scene for a murder that could have happened so long ago was making collecting evidence a fool's errand. Years worth of trash and exposure either destroyed or hid anything that could have been of any help. 

 

   Kabuto could have all his fun speculating about whatever sick fuck had put this man in the ground, Kakashi wanted it far from his mind. 

   Just as Yamato was about to chastise him for zoning out again a commotion from across the bullpen drew both their attention. 

 

   Behind a wall of glass was their superior, having a very animated conversation over the phone. The sounds were muffled considerably, but a key phrase carried over to them.

 

   “They found another one?” 

 


	2. ch 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one does anything legal the whole chapter. For fun and profit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised i get this chapter up before the end of the month and whoop! fuckin nailed it. hope yall enjoy and let me know ur thoughts. <3

_ Las Vegas, NV _

 

   Sasori was in his element. After nearly a year of creative stagnation he finally felt the urge to create again more keenly than he had in years. He'd been paranoid and jumpy back in San Francisco. Constantly looking over his shoulder and taking winding routes from work. Here, in a chain cafe in the middle of the most populated metropolitan areas for miles, he felt almost invisible. He chewed a few ice cubes at a time and glanced between his sketchbook and the large window. 

   His new muse kept pretty strictly to his routine. Convenient almost to the point of consideration. His evening jogging route took him past a number of cafés and restaurants, and every other day Sasori would move a little bit farther along his targets jogging route and make notes of the streets and turns he took. At about a week into his stalking Sasori had made a mental map of the paths he favored and the times he went.

   Right now it looked like the most isolated stretch was along a concrete flood control channel that bordered a block of commercial buildings. In the coming days Sasori would have to canvas that area for it's vehicle traffic and any surveillance. He was playing the long game, and with a month before the start of the fall semester he felt almost lousy with time.

   His sketchbook rested on a bouncing knee, covered in gestural sketches. Sasori had a soft spot for classically inspired works. Languid poses and strong structure looking luxuriously unbothered. Their timelessness was truly inspiring.He was itching to get his studio done. The tools and materials were all in place with just some final touches needed. Then Sasori would be ready, all that was left was the raw medium.

   He crushed an ice cube with his back molars. After a year of almost nothing he was on edge, to say the least. Playing the long game was good, it was safe, but Sasori's patience was finite. He was burning to make a move, any at all.

   What if……..he struck now? 

   What would be the worst that could happen. He'd get him to his apartment and he could store him until his studio was complete. Preservation was no obstacle for him. The security of already having him in his control might we'll be worth it. 

   His hand almost shook as he checked the time on his phone. He'd have 10 minutes at most before his target passed this shop. Was that enough time? Could get back to his car get it by the flood channel and set the trap? 

   Sasori saw a minute pass on his phone screen and the loss of time compelled him to act. He hated the feeling of being short on time in any circumstance, but in this moment it just added to the rush. 

   The rush of springing a trap, of getting his way, of making it  _ perfect. _

   Twilight was coming on steady and the concrete was still giving off waves of heat in the orange glow, making the feel of it all the more intense as Sasori snagged a hypodermic needle loaded with Ativan. It's fast acting time was ideal, most people lost their fight within the first 3 minutes after injection, and is intravenous delivery was more subtle and caused less visible damage to the flesh of his target. He'd make this clean and simple. 

   Sasori hid himself around the corner of a shabby industrial building, flattened against the wall with the needle in his dominant hand, and waited to pounce.

   He could hear the steady, rhythmic footfalls of his intended victim approaching. Every part of Sasori was tensed and all he could hear besides the steady foot falls was the erratic beating of his own heart.  

   “Hey, you alright my guy?” 

   Sasori startled so violently he nearly struck the man who approached him. He did however, end up stumbling into the joggers path and collided with him. The impact with his would be victim sent the Avidan skittering into the gutter and the jogger tumbling into the street.. 

   Fuck.  _ Fuck. _

   For a split second he made eye contact with his target. He must have looked as murderous as he felt because Sasori saw the man's eyes widen as he scrambled to his feet. He said something Sasori didn't catch, probably an apology, and sprinted away.

   He was gone. Fucking gone just like that. He'd seen his face, maybe even seen the needle fly out of his hand. At best he thought he was some junky freaking out away from crowded streets. A absolute worst he knew he'd been waiting for him now. 

   Either way he knew Sasori's face now. Without a doubt. He'd change his jogging route, look over his shoulder, and  _ definitely be able to recognize him again.  _

   Sasori would never be able to get close enough after that. 

   His head felt like it was on fire. Full of rage he rounded on the interloper, prepared to fucking destroy whatever asshole had just ruined his carefully laid plan. But the stranger gave him pause. 

   He couldn't have been a day past twenty. The man was obviously a drifter of some sort, with dirty long hair tied up and baggy clothes that almost hung off him, but he was….almost handsome. His face was almost as disarming as his sudden appearance. 

   Currently he was blinking at him owlishly and looking he might abscond himself any second. Sasori needed to pull himself together, quick. 

   “Can I help you with something,? I was just uh, waiting for someone.” he said quickly.

   The stranger gave him another once over and casually shifted the backpack on his shoulder. “Waiting for someone huh. Need any company? While you wait?” 

   Oh. So that was the game. One of his works of art a few years back had been a sex worker originally. It had been stupidly easy to get them back to his studio. It was simple and there was almost no response from from authorities to their disappearance….it'd be simple. 

   Sasori needed to suppress his glee when he realized the night wasn't all lost. 

   Letting him into the car was easy, and so was forgetting the syringe in the gutter. 

  
  


_    San Francisco, CA _

  
  


   They say you never forget your first, and Kabuto certainly didn't. 

   He never forgot the first time he'd gotten up close and personal with death, back when he still thought he would become a doctor. 

   He'd been green around the ears and eager to learn. Just to get any step closer to becoming a licensed physician. Attentive as the professor assisting Orochimaru had wheeled the cadaver into the operating theater crowded by some fifty equally hopeful med students. 

   Orochimaru and his colleague, a man seen frequently enough about campus to be recognized but not known, had cleanly opened the man's chest while calmly narrating the procedure to their audience. And one lonely man on a hard metal drain table.

   The next week a quarter of the class had dropped. The next specimen was a female aged 12 who had been in an automobile accident. 

   The week after the class had been reduced by half. 

   The following week Kabuto asked his academic advisor about switching to mortuary sciences. 

   He never regretted the path he chose. And to this day he regularly had lunch with his old mentor. He met his young son even. But today Kabuto deviated from his established routine with Orochimaru and was calling him on a Tuesday night, when he knew he'd probably be busy with Mitsuki. He waited in the precinct parking garage to be answered.

 

   “Professor?” 

 

   “Kabuto, I'd love to talk but I'm busy at the moment, can this wait till Friday evening?”

 

   “I don't think it can. Have you been keeping up with the news as of late?” 

 

   “Hmm hardly, but I'm going to guess you're about to tell me about the bodies that seem to popping up. I've seen them being called mummies but that just seems rather crude. At least you seem to be getting more interesting work?” 

   “It is about that, I shouldn't be telling you this at all actually.”

 

   “That hasn't stopped you from telling about work before” 

 

   Which was true enough. Kabuto did tend to be rather loose lipped around his old mentor, even when it came to active investigations. This time, however, was different.

 

   “I….I recognized the second vic this morning”

 

   “...isn't that good? Aren't all your superiors running around in circles trying to figure out who they are? If you called me up just to talk about that then-” 

 

   “No no I recognized him from one of  _ your classes _ ”

 

   The line was quiet for a moment. Then Kabuto heard Orochimaru turn away from the receiver to say something, followed by distant footfalls. Probably sending his son out of the room. 

 

   “What do mean by that” 

 

   “Do you remember the first year anatomy class, when I was your student?” 

 

   “I've taught that class maybe a hundred times, so no. Please get your actual point.” 

 

   “The cadaver” 

 

   “What do you-” 

 

   “The cadaver from that first class! It was him! I didn't believe it at first but it's definitely him.” 

 

   “...You're one hundred percent sure about this” 

 

   “Yes, his face was enough to make me question, but the lesions made post mortem are consistent with dissection and study. That made me certain.” 

 

   Kabuto had spent hours in the silent morgue pouring over the preserved flesh. Quietly reliving the memory right from the first cut. Outward from the jugular. His confusing rising with every new discovery that aligned with his memory. 

 

   “......You were right , Kabuto. You definitely shouldn't be telling me this. Is this some sort of courtesy call of my new status as prime suspect?” 

 

   “It's a warning.” 

 

   “...” 

 

   “All I've put in my latest report is that the marks on the body are consistent with a specimen for medical study. If it is the same cadaver, and you're put under the microscope, I'm giving you a head start on getting things in order” 

 

   It was quiet again, and Kabuto took a moment to glance nervously around the seemingly deserted parking structure. 

 

   “Thank you.. for calling today. Please keep me updated.” 

 

   “Right, of course professor” 

 

   “And we'll still be seeing you Friday?” 

 

   Some of the tension bleed out of Kabutos shoulders. “Yes, still on for Friday.”

 

   After he'd hung up Kabuto slouched against the hood of his car. He hopped he was wrong about the ID on their latest vic. But Kabuto wasn't about to take chances  after he'd submitted the autopsy report. 

   He didn't know how long he stayed like that lost in thought when loud footfalls and careless whistling pulled him from his thoughts, and he saw Detective Hatake sauntering in his general direction. 

   “Finally joining the living?” He joked. 

 

  “Don't bet on it. I have a feeling whoever is making these mummies is gonna keep me busy” 

 

   “To busy for say, a drink with the rest of us?” 

   “Tempting.”

 

   “Tenzos paying.” 

 

   “Now have you told him that, or-” 

 

   “Oh he'll be told at some point” 

 

   Kabuto could only laugh and good naturedly agree. He'd spend the whole night dwelling on a man he believed to be dead for about four years in a university lab, but he could at least keep up appearances in the meantime. 

   Kakashi had already made a note to examine Kabuto’s latest report with extreme prejudice. 

  
  


_    Las Vegas, NV _

 

   'This guy is mad fucking dumb’ Deidara thought to himself and he looked around the half furnished apartment. 

   When he'd seen him crouching behind a wall in Deidara had thought he was some tweaker looking for a quiet place to bug out before sundown and figured he'd be an easy target for some quick dough. Then, just his luck he'd charmed his way into this guy's fucking house. And he sure as hell wasn't a tweaker, place was to nice. 

   Deidara was definitely put on edge when the guy had quickly recovered from looking like he was on the edge of a rampage in public and then calmly driving them to the university neighborhood while under the impression that He was gonna put out for cash. 

   Nah uh. No sir. Not this artist. He was gonna just mug the dude and run but now he was in his  _ fucking appartment.  _ Deidara wasn't just gonna look this gift horse in the mouth and not rob him. 

   Pretending to look at some paintings stacked against the wall, Deidara clearly saw the guy reach for two glasses and then over to another cabinet for a pill bottle. 

   No fuckin way. 

   This guy looked like the skinny, academic type. Deidara figured he could take him out before things went to far, find some shit to pawn, and dip out. He just needed to wait for the right moment…

   “Dani?”

   The man had finished fixing whatever the hell he was making and turned back to him with two glasses and a tight lipped, fake smile. 

   “A drink?” 

   Deidara, like the good little liar he was responded to fake name he'd given without hesitation, and took the drink he was definitely not going to touch with a thank you. And faked a sip. It smelt overly sweet.

   “I'll be back in a moment” and the stranger placed his glass on the counter before disappearing into the bathroom off to the side. 

   He heard the sound of a faucet turning on and before Deidara could think to hard about what he was doing, he switched out his drink for the one the man had made for himself and quietly poured half down the drain of the kitchen sink. Making it look like he'd at least drank some and not risk provoking this weirdo by outright refusing to drink it. He spotted some rather nice china on the counter for his trouble. 

   He'd settled himself on the couch, trying very hard to look as non threatening as he could manage. When the man soon to be robbed came back out, Deidara received another tight lipped smile. 

   “I say after you finish that we can get down to business.” 

   Down to business, what weird fucker. Just say sex for christs sake. 

   “Seems a little unfair that I'm the only one drinking, don't it?” 

   The man looked him over once, seemed to be looking for something in his words, maybe deception? He conceded with another fake smile before downing half of the contents of Deidara's original glass. 

   Deidara got up from his seat and sauntered up to him slowly. He sure wasn't gonna be able to knock this guy out from the other side of the room. In this instance getting closer was unavoidable. He'd have to play this the fuck up if the wasn't gonna burst out laughing and sabotage the whole deal. 

   The John looked at him curiously as he crossed to room without breaking eye contact. By the time Deidara had gotten to him and started tugging at his collar playfully the man's expression had shifted from badly concealed annoyance to confusion. He started to sway in place and his eyes became unfocused. When he reached for the counter to steady himself, Deidara took the opportunity to kick a shaky leg out from under him and watch him crumble on the clean tile of the kitchen floor. Before he could try and push himself up Deidara lifted him slightly by the shoulders and slammed his head into the floor. 

   Breathing heavy, Deidara stepped over the unconscious man and started tearing through the cupboards till he found the pill bottle he'd spied earlier. 

   Deidara had thought this was some middle aged guy embarrassed about taking his dick pills in front of a hired guest, but no, this guy had tried to slip him fucking  _ rohypnol  _ in a rum and coke. Un-fucking believable. 

   Giving the poor bastard who'd roofied himself a quick kick in the stomach for his efforts, Deidara set about collecting whatever pawnable shit he could fit into one of the empty moving boxes. And he definitely remembered to take this sick fucks wallet while he was at it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally figured out how the fuckers were gonna meet. not the sweetest meet cute in history but i am satisfied with it.  
> I've been thinking about posting this to my tumbler just to make it easier to find and have a place to post updates without having to confine them to just chapter notes.   
> Lemme know if that sounds chill and thank y'all for reading

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be much appreciated and ill try to post the second chapter before the end of the month!


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